Perfectly Imperfect
by MashPotatoeSquishBanana
Summary: "He was far from perfect- but it was his flaws that I loved about him. He was perfectly imperfect- and I loved him for it." Percy and Annabeth spend a night under the stars, and privately ponder why the other puts up with them. A series of Percabeth one- shots
1. Perfectly Imperfect

**Hi everyone! I know I should be updating my other stories, but this idea has been eating my brain alive for the past day!**

**Title: Perfectly Imperfect  
Main Characters: Percy Jackson and Annabeth Chase  
Status: a few days after PJ and the Staff of Hermes**

Percy's POV

As I stared down into Annabeth's beautiful grey eyes, I couldn't help but think how lucky I am. She was absolutely perfect, flawless, gorgeous, graceful, wise— everything that I was not. I couldn't fathom what she liked about me. I was a dim-witted oaf compared to her.

She grinned up at me, and I was blinded by her brilliant smile. Her teeth shone in the moonlight. When she leant up to kiss me, my heart sped up.

We had been dating for just over a month. I should have been used to it by now. But I was beyond grateful that she was still with me. That she had decided to stay with me, even though I had forgotten our first anniversary and instead scheduled a battle with a giant and a swim through sewage water.

Every time she kissed me, I would be amazed all over again that this perfect girl had chosen _me_.

I brushed a blond lock off her forehead and she shivered, and sighed contentedly, resting her head against my chest as we sprawled on the beach, the moon high overhead and the waves pounding on the shore.

**Annabeth's POV**

As I stared up into my boyfriend's gorgeous green eyes, for the millionth time in a month, I thought about how Aphrodite must really love me to bless me with Percy.

He was far from perfect- but it is his flaws that I love about him. His teeth were crooked, and he was a lot paler than me. His hair was unkempt and couldn't be tamed.

He was overly impulsive, and perhaps not the brightest crayon in the box— but his imperfections were endearing to me.

I loved the way his messy black hair contrasted sharply with his sea green eyes; the way his smile was crooked and his eyes glinted with a mischievous gleam.

He was perfectly imperfect, and I loved every bit of it.

But what did he see in me? I was cunning and calculating, cold and conniving. I had a rotten sense of humour, and laughter came rarely to me, if not at all.

I wasn't overly pretty— my eyes were dull and grey and boring, my hair limp and colourless.

Percy's eyes were alight with an emotion as he brushed his hand lovingly across my forehead. I shivered at his cool touch— it was soothing, but at the same time, it set my heart racing and my thoughts reeling.

_Why does this boy make me so vulnerable? _My mind screamed. Why does he make my walls come down when no one else could?

All the same, I loved just being here with him. I sighed happily and settled on his chest. His heart beat in harmony to mine.

Our gazes locked, and that strange light in his eyes once again puzzled me to no end.

I pulled his head down to me with one hand and kissed him softly, unable to resist the urge. Through his cotton T shirt, I could feel his heart speed up, and I smiled, happy that I could affect him so.

And then something dawned on me— that puzzling light in his eyes, the way he made my heart race, why I was even having these thoughts in the first place— it all fell into place.

_Oh, _was all I could think.

I met his eyes again and ran my hand through his silky locks.

And then and there, it dawned on me.

I had known this boy for four and a half years. I had secretly liked him for two of those years.

But only now did I realise it— I was in love with him.

_Oh. _

**Short and sweet! Do you think I should continue this as a Percabeth one- shot series?**

**I probably couldn't update very often, at least until I finish my story Last Wish, which dominates most of my time, but is it an idea to consider?**

**Tell me in a review!**

**Thanks for reading!**

**MashPotatoeSquishBanana**


	2. Does This Count For Love?

**Hi there! How was your day? **

**Here's the chapter!**

**Title: Does This Count For Love?  
Status: During TLO**

As I gaze down upon the sleeping boy, I think: he looks so innocent and babyish while sleeping. I don't have the heart to rouse him from his much- needed sleep, only to do battle all over again. I can only imagine how his face would slowly lose the innocence and once again wear the expression I have come to know as battle- hardened weariness.

I can't bear to see that look on Percy's face; Percy's face, one that I have always associated cheer and optimism with. Goofiness and laughter. A plan for every situation, good or bad. I miss the old Percy. The new one doesn't smile as often. I like his smile.

I am aware when somebody joins me in staring down at the sleeping Percy. Unfortunately, I know all too well who this person is.

My plan to ignore her fails immediately when she says, "Annabeth."

I continue to ignore her, now fuming. Percy mutters something I cannot make out and rolls over. I have never noticed how many scars he has on his left arm…

"Annabeth," she says again, more forcibly. My hand subconsciously clenches, and my left eye twitches in irritation.

"What do you want, Dare?" I ask through gritted teeth. _Can't she just take a blatantly obvious hint for once?!_

My red headed nightmare (aka Rachel Elizabeth Dare) shifts her body so that she is leaning against the bed Percy sleeps soundlessly on, gazing at me with an uncanny gleam in her eyes. Her green eyes seem cloudy. Almost reptilian… I can suddenly imagine her as an old woman. A vision of the Oracle from Camp Half Blood, sitting so still and silently and mysteriously on her wooden stool in the Big House attic comes into my mind. The withered, leather mummy dressed in her hippie tie dye dress and all those ancient beads…

I shudder in revulsion.

"Well?" I snap, impatient and a little unnerved by her silent, scrutinizing stare. "What do you want?"

Percy moans in his sleep and rolls again, so that his face is buried in his pillow. I worry about his breathing, but he seems to manage just fine.

Rachel seems to hesitate before saying what was on her mind. "Annabeth… this may seem like an odd question, but have you ever fallen in love?"

The thought that she is going to ask me for advice about Percy flashes through my mind. I stare at the ground, appalled that she would even _try _to ask me. _Why do the two people whom I most WANT to know my feelings have to be so blind?! _I screamed inside my head. Out loud, while avoiding meeting her piercing emerald stare, I say, "That's none of your business, Dare."

The truth? My love life is in shambles. I once thought I was in love with Luke Castellan, who is seven years my senior. Then, whoopdedoo; he goes and turns to the dark side, finds out they don't have cookies, but he can't come back because he's already done some stupid but completely man- like thing and transformed himself into the evil titan lord Kronos who wants to decimate western civilisation.

And the _other _guy, sometimes he makes me feel like maybe he IS that one… then other times, I want to rip his head off and hurl it into Tartarus. Does that count for love?

Rachel nods as if my silence confirms her question. "You're confused," is all she says.

I glare at the wall, wanting to punch something. "Did you have a purpose in mind when you came in here?" I ask, my frosty tone only just hiding the trembly undertone.

"I do not tell untruths," Rachel says, her voice low and raspy. I shiver involuntarily. "I simply point out facts. I see you do not deny that you are confused."

I turn to look at Rachel, and for a moment, her image is blurred. I see many women in on, thousands of generations of young maidens, but it is gone as suddenly as it is there.

"No, I don't deny it," I say softly, the urge to finally voice my conflictions overcoming the part of my brain that was screaming at me to keep my mouth shut.

Rachel sits on the end of Percy's bed and flicks his ankle with her finger to see if he is secretly awake and listening. He doesn't stir.

"Tell me about it," Rachel says gently.

I sigh and pull out a chair from the small coffee table next to the bed.

"Percy." I whisper, gazing at his black head of hair. "I've had a crush on him since I was twelve and we went on our first quest together. I blew it off, thinking it was just a minor thing; nothing would come of it anyway."

Rachel nods, her red curls bouncing.

"I hid this little crush under other feelings and emotions for years. He annoys me so much at times! He angers me, and I snap at him, and then we fight. It's a never ending cycle. I used to try and quell my feelings- he'll never return them, anyway." I laugh bitterly. "I've thrown so many hints at him— and it's like he ignores them, or is so oblivious on purpose just to irritate me!"

Rachel starts fidgeting with the edge of Percy's duvet cover. "But there's still more," she urges.

I drop my head, staring at my intertwined hands in my lap. "Yes," I whisper.

"Go on." Rachel smiles encouragingly, and the thought that maybe, just maybe, she isn't so bad flits across my mind.

"This summer," I begin, my mouth feeling like sandpaper, "my feelings have gotten so intense. I don't know whether I want to kill him or—", my voice lowers, "kiss him."

Rachel meets my eyes, her gaze even. "That's why you hate me. You're jealous because you think he likes me, and that I like him."

I feel my cheeks redden. "I don't hate you," I mumble. "Besides, he _does _like you! He spends more time with you than he does me, now. In fact, sometimes I think he is running away from me!"

"That's nonsense! You're his best friend. And you don't have to lie about hating me. Of course I won't be offended."

My voice drops to a whisper. "Don't tell anyone," I say, unable to keep my lips from curling slightly, "but I might even _like _you. Just a tad."

Rachel bursts into laughter. "My lips are sealed, Chase."

We both look at Percy, who has now flipped onto his back. His eyes flit frantically beneath his eye lids. Probably a bad dream.

"You haven't finished your story, Annabeth," Rachel presses.

I look back at her and shrug. "There isn't really much else to say. I really, really like Percy. He doesn't like me back. Love sucks. I know that's horribly cliché, but it's true." I smile weakly, trying (and failing) to hold her piercing emerald gaze.

"How do you _know _that, Annabeth?"

"Huh?"

"How do you know for sure that he doesn't like you back?" Rachel repeats.

"I just do. He hasn't initiated affection _once_."

"Don't be quick to judge. I think we can both agree that Percy is not the most romantic boy in the world." Rachel holds my eyes. "I cannot only see through the Mist, Annabeth, but I also see other things. I see the way you look at him, and the way he returns your stare. You took a poisoned dagger for him!"

Now that she has mentioned the dagger incident, my wound has started to ache. I rub it and frown.

"But I also see the way he looks at you," Rachel continues. "Like he would take a bullet for you, but more. He would honestly die for you. A thousand times over." She lets that one sink in before resuming: "He confides in me." Her voice lowers, and she glances at the sleeping Percy. "He is afraid of you. Of what you would do to him if he mentioned anything beyond friends."

I stare at her, dumbfounded. "Percy is _afraid _of me?"

"Yes. He doesn't fancy getting punched everytime he opens his mouth," Rachel says, rather dryly.

"He is such a Seaweed Brain," I murmur, gazing down at him, warmth bubbling up inside of me.

"You know," Rachel says, "I had a vision."

"Of what?"

"Percy. When he was drowning in the River Styx. He called out your name, Annabeth. And, miraculously, his head resurfaced, and he walked out of the water like nothing had happened. That was before he collapsed, though," she adds.

"He… called out my name when he was drowning?" I whisper, my heart stuttering.

"Unless my vision was incorrect, then yes."

I so long to wake him up and kiss him right then and there, but now just isn't the right time.

Rachel stands up and stretches, like she knows her bit is done and I need time to mull over her advice.

"Think about this conversation, okay?" Rachel smiles one last time at me, and leaves the room.

I stand above Percy, my shield in hand, armour breastplate on. It is time to go to war.

As if he somehow knows I am there, his eyelids flutter, he yells something out and sits up so suddenly he bangs his head on my shield.

He flops back onto the bed, groaning. "Ow!"

"Sorry!" I grin and catch his eye.

"Annabeth? What are you doing in armour?"

"Going to fight, of course," I state, like it is obvious.

"What about your wound?"

I roll my shoulder, and wince slightly from the pain that shoots through it. He looks alarmed by my appearance. I roll my eyes and say, "Don't worry about it, Percy."

And as I stare down at him, that warm feeling once again spreads through me. His concern for me is obvious. I think about what Rachel said, about how a vision of me saved him from drowning.

I grin and hold my hand out. He grasps it, and I find that it feels so natural. Like our fingers fit together like long lost puzzle pieces.

_Does this count for love?_

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**MashPotatoeSquishBanana :)**


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